From the Ashes
by BluePhyre
Summary: For vicky199416's challenge. He was a fallen man at the close of the Battle of Hogwarts, but still the happiest moment of his life was then. Lucius wasn't always a good father, but he cared.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.**

Long time no write xP I've been pretty vacant lately, big writer's block. Eww. But I was looking through fics and I came across one written for a challenge by vicky199416 which really interested me... The happiest moment in a character's life. I got Lucius, and this is my take on it ;) Sorry it's not too long, but have fun reading. I'd really appreciate reviews!

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><p>I could remember when my boots were new and polished. They were of the finest leather in all of Florence, a fortune even to look upon. But now, they had been stained a dull brown, the brown of dried blood. Scuff marks marred their gleam further as I waded through the debris of the castle. Surely, I had done some of this damage myself.<p>

Though, I had not killed. The row of fifty strong, all dead of different causes, had not been added to by my wand. It was a wand I was still uncomfortable with, a wand that could never replace the one Voldemort had destroyed. I walked along the row all the same, searching for someone much more important than a man, woman, or child that could have died by my hand.

A son.

These faces, I knew some of them. Their names eased over my lips as I walked beyond them, only the soft recognition in my voice of their identity sounding in my mind. "Remus Lupin." Not Draco. "Nymphadora Tonks." Not Draco. "Fred Weasley." Not Draco. "Colin Creevey." Not Draco. "Severus Snape..." Not Draco.

The most horrific thought that came to me was that my son would be the next person down the line. I took each face individually, my gait nonexistent. I could see a bit of Draco in each corpse's face as I passed. They each possessed a bit of him; the same nose, complexion, hair, or wily smirk as my son. Never before had death been such a monstrosity to the cold, untouched heart of the great Lucius Malfoy. How could anyone destroy all these people who bore looks stolen from Draco?

It was a delusion, naturally. I knew my mind wasn't right; I was seeing the worst. But the truth remained the same: Draco had the same gamble at life that each of these people had. They had simply lost. The Malfoy's hand, however, was unknown.

At the end of the line, Draco had not been found. His absence did not speak works of relief to me, but only of more uncertainty. Was Draco alive after all, or was he simply yet to be found? Would he ever return?

"Lucius," Narcissa approached. "He's... Draco, I swear to you, Lucius, he's..."

"Alive?" the I asked, lost. "I need to see him. I need to see my boy." And we sat down together at the end of the line of the dead, feeling just as cold, just as lifeless as those that came before them. Our eyes explored the end of our world; the final battle meant the downfall of all we knew.

"Look," Narcissa whispered, squeezing my hand before using her other - the left arm - to point atop the Grand Staircase. I followed her gesture, eyes wide. "There he is."

Draco, eyes dull and swolled, had stumbled down the first three steps without a sound of shock. He was covered in soot, sweat, and the smell of burning flesh. His hands here bubbling with blisters and less severe burns from climbing out of the fiendfyre, and his clothes would be forever singed. Draco wasn't watching where he was going, but instead he stared at Goyle, whose arm he had strung over his shoulders in an attempt to carry him to safety. He was still crying softly for Crabbe, whose death he had witnessed not two hours ago. As he continued to descend the stairs clumsily, Draco's eyes caught on the flames flickering on a lit torch. They stayed there until he was down the stairs where he collapses on the ground in sobs of fright, remorse, and pain. Goyle didn't move from where he had been dropped on the ground.

It was then that I felt life return to my body. A smile crossed my stern, chapped lips, and I closed my eyes on the scene. I could feel Narcissa leave my side, rushing to collect our son. I didn't need to watch, nor did I need to follow her. I had seen them; I would remember it forever. Watching Draco sob into his mother bosom, covered in human filth and ashes... It was the happiest moment of my life.


End file.
